


The Glass Belljar I Shattered

by CloverTheGrand



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Dies (Good Omens), M/M, New Zealand, Post-Canon, Regret, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, The Author Regrets Nothing, spirituality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloverTheGrand/pseuds/CloverTheGrand
Summary: The Principality of the Eastern Gate Aziraphale committed treason, and so faced capital punishment. And yet the world kept on turning. Three years later, Gabriel took a break from his New Zealand mission and took a hike in Avalanche Peak, though begrudgingly he wore a sweater that Aziraphale once gave him.Have you ever stopped and marvelled at the splendour of our world? Have you ever stared at the pieces of a heirloom you've broken? Have you ever loved someone too late?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	The Glass Belljar I Shattered

Three years had passed since Armageddon was botched. The two traitors were dead. And yet the world kept on turning.

Canterbury, New Zealand was pretty at this time of the year. His team was able to complete their mission here a day early, and so they were allowed to spend the day doing their own leisurely activities. Gabriel planned to embark on a morning hike by himself at the Avalance Peak, Arthur’s Pass. Gabriel was admittedly more used in urban environments. Being one with nature was Michael’s territory— she could wander for months on end in the wilderness and be rejuvenated by its impeccable power. Gabriel needed the faces of others to feel grounded, but this time he knew that he needed to think up plans for Heaven’s future, and that was an act he needed to do himself: somewhere with privacy a bush can supply.

It was twilight, a time where the sky outside of Gabriel’s hostel room sported an eerie azure glow. Right now, as the Archangel rummaged through his hiking gear to find something wearable, he found the low silhouetted lighting to be annoying. Too dim to differentiate the colours, too bright for anything to be obscured, so he picked his outfits through touch.

While his usual cashmere track pants were versatile, they were inappropriate for hiking, as well as several other sporting activities Gabriel liked to do. Gabriel solved this solution by pre-packaging clothes into packs according to their function. Not that the multitude of choices Gabriel had made it easier to pick an outfit. 

At last, Gabriel found the garment of his choice when he felt something springy and woollen at his fingertips. He pulled it out of the pile and straightened it out. But when Gabriel saw what it was, he stopped in his tracks.

The principality of Eden’s gate Aziraphale had given a sweater to him once back in the 19th century, though his tight schedule meant that he had to miracle it back to storage. Now he could see the clothing more closely. It was a purple Aran sweater knitted from soft, thick merino wool, with a turtleneck and patterns knitted in decorative columns. Even for him, it seemed too big. He shivered at how his past self simply stuffed this sweater into the pack without a second thought. 

Gabriel inspected the sweater’s quality and stretched the material with his thumb. Very durable and springy. The stitches were very uniform and intricate, a mastery that reminded Gabriel of Belgian bobbin lace. He shook his head. Such a shame Aziraphale’s talented hands later betrayed his own side.

In the end, the lack of an undershirt meant that Gabriel had to pick the sweater after all. He justified it to himself by seeing it as appreciating the artistry so that this sweater did not go to waste. At least the sweater went well with the navy rainjacket worn over it. 

Kiwi silhouettes were running across the concrete roads when Gabriel arrived at the trail’s entrance. Golden grass lined the stone footpath many others walked, dewdrops hanging off of their blades. Keas overhead flew by as they flashed their red underwings. The sound of bellbirds, kereru, and tui rang crisp and clear as the bush rustled and Gabriel’s breath turned to smoke in the cold fog.

Gabriel, meanwhile, was too busy considering the direction Heaven needed to go to in the next few centuries. How they were supposed to function now, Gabriel did not understand— if Armageddon was erased, what was the point of Earth? Wouldn’t Armageddon allow all of Her children, humans, to stay with Her and Her saving grace forever? He could think of no higher honour than that.

The stray bleat of a sheep broke Gabriel’s train of thought. He had walked out of the bush and into a clearing bordered by rocky mountains, where a herd of feral sheep were grazing the grass. He blinked. Sheep were the Lord’s creatures created to be governed by the cane of a shepherd. Without the shepherd, they could get lost from their herd and die alone. Gabriel knew that sheep needed to be sheared once every year, too, so even if predators did not tear them apart their own wool would overgrow and suffocate them. Yet here they were, grazing the dewy grass, their breaths warm and fogging just like his. 

The call had been from a ewe calling for her lamb, an undocked thing that bounced back and suckled her milk. As the lamb rubbed against its mother, sections of wool peeled away. After so many generations in isolation, they had learnt how to live by themselves. These feral sheep did not need a shepherd to shear their wool anymore. Not only that, but they were _thriving_ by themselves.

It was a good thing God gave them thick wool to survive cold weather, then. Gabriel looked down at his own sweater. At the bitter thought of the traitor Aziraphale, he zipped up his rain jacket and marched away from the area. 

By the time dawn cusped, Gabriel was hiking uphill. He hiked higher and higher as the mountain peaks set ablaze with light, the grass glowed like gold, and the winds blew the fog away. Until at last, he was at Avalanche peak.

The behemoths of mountains stood solemnly and quietly, jagged black stone poking out of the mountains’ snowy peak. From such a high angle the bushland in the valley below looked like plush green velvet, separated only by the trail that led him here. The mountains lined the horizon like a series of fortresses, cupping the sun as it rose from its slumber and blessed the sky with its golden light. It was no wonder humans thought that Gods lived within the mountains. 

Gabriel crouched down as he marvelled at Her creation through human eyes. Wonders were many on Earth, and it was up to humankind to govern them. Yet what a beautiful corner of the world, someplace untouched by humans and somewhere Gabriel himself had only heard of by an inkling. What would this place look like if humans populated here? It would be good for humans themselves, Gabriel reasoned. Plenty of wood and rich soil in the bushland below. Plenty of grass for livestock to graze in. Plenty of places to see the majesty of Her artistry. Yet that would ruin the beauty of this place, would it not? Despite his own reasonings, Gabriel had to begrudgingly come to the conclusion that any heavy population here would ruin the sanctity of solitude after all.

Gabriel blew into his hands and rubbed them, but then found holes within the folds of the sweater’s sleeves.

Gabriel peered. Why would Aziraphale, who had proven himself to be an accomplished knitter, drop stitches here twice? Gabriel slipped a finger through a hole. However, the hole’s rim was not formed from a chain broken in the knitting, but almost… purposeful. The rim was reinforced into a proper ring like the ridges of the neckline, hem, and sleeve cuffs. As he adjusted the sleeve, he saw that the holes matched the spaces where his thumbs would be, and slipped his thumbs through. 

This act had fully stretched out the sleeve to his knuckles, which allowed Gabriel to see the intricate details of the sweater better. Intricate lilac flower patterns marbled down to the elbows like ivy on a wall. Gabriel traced each vine in awe. How many hours had Aziraphale devoted himself to this project? 

He could see that the sweater was made a little bigger on purpose so that the feature of the holes could be added. Gabriel couldn’t help but commend Aziraphale on his creativity. The long sleeves worked like fingerless gloves that warmed the palm while also freeing the fingers and thumbs for manual work. Moreso, the long sleeves made Gabriel feel secure. Protected. He found his face inching towards his cupped hands until he nuzzled into the sleeve cuffs with his bottom lip, savouring the soft material's warmth.

Gabriel's eyes flung open. He looked up, then down, and the realisation that dawned upon him hollowed Gabriel.

Aziraphale might have been right after all. This world was what Aziraphale had been trying to save. Her masterpiece, Her essence, something Gabriel had not properly seen. 

And he was dead. 

What a grave mistake he had made. 

How Gabriel had wished for death to an angel who barely knew him. Yet the thoughtfulness of the Principality's gift transcended that.

Oh, what a grave mistake he had made. 

How Gabriel had always been too blind to consider why Aziraphale wanted to preserve this world, and now he has seen its beauty in its full splendour. 

Yes, what a grave mistake he had made. 

For he possibly could have befriended, even loved, the sensitive Aziraphale. But now only the shattered pieces of what could've been remained, pieces that Gabriel himself had broken, ones that can never truly be together again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I should write a fic where Gabriel finds thumb holes in the sweater Aziraphale made for him
> 
> Also me: writes an angsty post-canon fic where Aziraphale died and Gabriel realises his mistake too late.
> 
> For real though this has got to be the saddest thing I have ever written. 
> 
> Also purple lilacs represent budding love so yes cry your heart out :')


End file.
